


Five years (and lots of dick) later

by mckinleysbitch (orphan_account)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Billy is a big sap but will never let you know that, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Near Future, Reunion, Reunions, Romance, Smut, we'll see what happens folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 06:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/mckinleysbitch
Summary: It was on one of these nights, bar hopping with friends, that he found himself sitting at one of three bars surrounding a floor, watching his friends make fools of themselves while they danced, sipping what was probably his sixth drink of the night, that his gaze fell on someone familiar, and Billy almost couldn’t believe his eyes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely self indulgent piece of writing lmao we'll see how often i actually get around to updating but i love these here boys

Billy had long since left Hawkins Indiana behind.  
As soon as he’d graduated, as soon as he was old enough to get a place on his own, he’d been out of there. He’d wanted Max to come with him, but she didn’t seem to get Neil’s bad side the same way Billy had, and she liked her friends, so he tried not to push his own feelings about the town on her. 

So he’d left.

California was the logical place to be. He’d lived there before, had people he could go to, places he knew like the back of his hand. So he’d moved out to San Francisco, eventually going to school, letting himself be comfortable somewhere for once in his life, all the secrecy and shame and angst he’d carried around in high school eventually dissipating. He fell directly into the queer scene in San Fran, finding a good group of people to surround himself with, and a place to actually act on some of the things he’d been thinking… fuckin’ /dreaming/ about since high school. He didn’t have boyfriends, really, wasn’t quite his style, but he managed to make his way around, building a very different reputation for himself than the one he’d had in his teens. He was still a flirt, a cocky, sarcastic asshole who could charm his way into the bed of anyone he pleased, just… with less internalized homophobia and teen angst to deal with. He went out… a lot. He was a regular at more bars across the city than was probably socially acceptable, but he was no drunk. Just liked to have a good time. 

It was on one of these nights, bar hopping with friends, that he found himself sitting at one of three bars surrounding a floor, watching his friends make fools of themselves while they danced, sipping what was probably his sixth drink of the night, that his gaze fell on someone familiar, and Billy almost couldn’t believe his eyes. “Holy shit.” If he said it out loud, he didn’t notice the looks it got him. That hair, that /body/… jesus, he’d recognize it anywhere. Steve fuckin’ Harrington. Steve Harrington was sitting in what was /definitely/ a gay bar in San Francisco, laughing with some guy at the bar, sipping at something fruity and colorful. If seventeen year old Billy could have seen it, he would have spontaneously combusted then and there. 

Current Billy couldn’t bring himself to get up.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. Steve Harrington was the catalyst in a long line of suppressed feelings for men that had forced Billy to grapple with his own feelings, even if it hadn’t been in the most productive way. Still, by the end of high school, they’d moved from fighting all the time to something like frenemies, more sarcastic banter than physical violence. It had been the first time in his life that he’d really /wanted/ someone, a guy, to feel the same way about Billy as he did about them, and then Billy had left. 

But there he was. Sitting right there, across the room. And Billy wanted to just fuckin’ jump him, but something nagged in the back of his mind that held him back. He finished his drink and joined his friends to dance, trying and failing to keep from watching Steve, knowing where he was, making sure he wasn’t leaving, as if Billy was going to run up at the last second to say hello.

“Man what the hell is up with you?”

Billy was pulled out of his thoughts, peeling his eyes away from where Steve was sitting to meet his friend Eric’s, who was giving him an incredulous look. They had moved to sit at the bar again

“Why have you been staring at that guy all night?” He was looking past Billy, back to Steve “I mean, he’s hot, but I don’t get it? What’s with the stalker vibes Hargrove?” Billy opened his mouth to answer, glancing back again, but this time he was caught by Steve’s gaze, the words freezing in his throat. 

“Shit.” 

It was clear that Steve recognized him, but he didn’t seem to be panicking, like Billy was. Actually, he was smiling at him, an eyebrow raised, turning and saying something to his friend before getting up, eyes trained on Billy as he walked towards him.

“/Shit/.” He looked over at Eric, “It’s Steve. That’s Steve.” It wasn’t like he talked about him a lot. Not anymore, anyways. But Eric had known him since freshman year of college, and he certainly had been a topic of conversation then. How could he not be, when Billy was just finding his group of other queer kids and all figuring themselves out at once? 

“Oh shit.” His eyebrows shot up, “/That’s/ Steve? /The/ Steve? Damn Billy.” 

Billy didn’t have a chance to respond, because there he was. Steve was smiling at him, waving as he walked forward, and Billy almost felt like he was going to combust. Still, he put on his smirk, an eyebrow raised, grateful that Eric took it as a queue to get up and rejoin their other friends. “Wow, fancy seeing you here, pretty boy,”

“You’re still callin’ me that, huh?” He snorted a laugh, taking a stool and motioning for a drink. God he looked good. He looked so fucking good. His hair was the same, that signature Steve coiffe, but he looked older, more mature, a little stubble dusted across his jaw, the polo abandoned for a loose button up. “Isn’t that a little high school?” 

“What, like you don’t like it?” Steve rolled his eyes, an easy smile coming across his lips, “It’s for nostalgia’s sake, princess. What am I supposed to call you, /Steve/? How boring.” Another laugh, and Billy was a little surprised at how easy it was to fall right back where they left off. 

“Yeah yeah,” Steve took his drink from the bartender, shifting a little to face Billy, “This is kind of crazy, right? Running into each other like this?” That was one way to describe it. Crazy, unbelievable, the exact plot of more than one of Billy’s college wet dreams. 

“Yeah, pretty crazy.” He took a sip of his drink, unable to take his eyes off Steve. It really had been a long time. Not really, in the grand scheme of things, but five years not seeing someone you used to think about every damn day of your life seems like a lifetime. “Missed seein’ your pretty face around.” To be honest, he wasn’t really sure whether Steve knew that he’d been attracted to him at all. Billy was, admittedly, a flirt, and there was definitely a possibility that Steve had just assumed that was the way that Billy talked to everyone. Towards the end, anyways, when they could actually talk to each other without getting in a fight. 

“Yeah, yours too.” Steve looked so fuckin’ /comfortable/ saying it so genuinely, without the teasing tone Billy always put on.

That caught Billy off guard.

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

A silence fell over the two of them, and the air between them felt thicker now. Billy took a sip of his drink, watching Steve watch him with such an easy smile over the rim. His eyes flicked down to his lips, and then back up, and Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, which he only mirrored with a smirk. 

Then, the moment broke. 

Whoever Steve had been talking to before came up and mumbled something behind him, something about leaving, and Steve’s face fell, looking back to Billy.

Shit.

“Yeah, just gimme a second,” He waved his friend off, eyes still locked with Billy’s. He grabbed a napkin, motioning to the bartender and saying something to them Billy couldn’t quite hear. “Do you live around here?”

Billy nodded, his eyebrow still raised out of confusion now, watching the bartender hand Steve a pen. “Yeah, not far.” 

“Okay,” Steve scrawled a number across the napkin, “If you want to catch up, some other time, gimme a call.” He pushed the napkin across to Billy, “I’ll see you around.” He shot him one last smile as he stood, leaving money on the counter for his drinks. Billy took the napkin, looking at it in his hands. 

“Yeah, see you around pretty boy,” He called after him, downing the rest of his drink in one gulp. Jesus Christ.


	2. Only took five fuckin' years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy finally calls, and Steve doesn't have to be asked twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well in a complete daze i wrote this chapter instead of doing any of the work i was supposed to be doing today so here you go you fucking horndogs

Billy kept Steve’s number by his phone, almost too afraid to actually call. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to… he just didn’t want to come off too eager. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to call, to hear Steve’s voice again, but that was just too fuckin’ sappy for him to admit to himself. 

It took him a week to actually do it, to stop just staring at the numbers scrawled across the napkin and actually call. He nearly lost his nerve as it was ringing, but before he could hang up, he heard a click, and a voice. “Hello?”

“Hey pretty boy.” If Billy was good at anything, it was hiding any hesitation there might have been in his voice. Sure, he was a nervous fuckin’ wreck, but Steve didn’t need to know that.

“Mm. Took you long enough.” There was a laugh in Steve’s voice. Billy grinned. 

“Yeah, well, couldn’t stay away for long,” He sat down at his kitchen counter in front of the phone, resting his chin in his hand, “You still want to… catch up?” Steve laughed on the other end of the line, warm and fuckin’ /easy/. How was it so damn easy for him? 

“How could I say no?” Relief washed over Billy, even though he hadn’t really been expecting him to turn him down. Steve was the one who gave him his number, after all. “You got something in mind?” 

Shit.

“Uh,” He glanced around his apartment. Shit. He should have thought this through more before he called. He should have had a plan, a place, ready to go. /He/ was the one calling, after all, how could he not be expected to be the one with the plan. “You could come here.” He heard Steve laugh again, which made him relax a little. “Shut up, Harrington, I’m not bein’ sleazy. I’m a good fuckin’ cook and I have an expensive bottle of wine someone gave to me that I haven’t found a reason to use yet.” He was a good cook. It was something he’d had to learn pretty quick, once he was out of Hawkins, and… not to toot his own horn, but he’d definitely successfully used food to get to a man’s heart before, or into his pants. 

“You want to cook for me, Hargrove? How domestic.” 

“Only the best for you, princess.” Another laugh. Billy loved his fuckin’ laugh. Jesus christ he was in so deep already. Still, Steve agreed to his half-baked plan, and Billy gave him his address, making a plan for 8 that night. Billy looked around his apartment, beating himself up a little for suggesting this, because it was a fuckin’ mess, and he didn’t have any groceries, but he wanted to impress, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do it right. 

Billy spent the better part of his day getting his apartment ready. Eric came over for a bit that afternoon, and spent his time sitting at the kitchen counter, making fun of Billy for how much effort he was putting into impressing Steve.

“Like, I know he was your big gay crush, or whatever but-”

“Not a crush, dickhead.” Billy was in the middle of putting his groceries away, keeping anything out that he needed for dinner. He didn’t /get/ crushes on people. That wasn’t the Billy Hargrove way, outwardly anyways.

“Yeah, okay, whatever. You were just in fuckin’ love with the guy.” Eric just shrugged, playing with the chord on the phone, “I just don’t see why you’re so nervous. It’s so clear that he’s already into you. We were all watching you two fuck each other with your eyes at the bar.” Billy just rolled his eyes, ripping open his bag of rice and pouring some into a bowl to rinse it out.

“You don’t know that.”

“Uhh, I’m not fucking blind, Billy.” He was right, of course. Steve had given him his number, and agreed to come over for dinner. It wasn’t like they hadn’t both been insinuating something more than catching up, but something in the back of Billy’s mind still nagged at him. He knew it was just residual high school shit, whatever doubt he’d had then, but that didn’t stop it from coming up. Maybe Steve didn’t think this was a date, maybe he really did just want to catch up, a nostalgia trip more than a romantic evening. They’d never really confirmed or denied what this was going to be. Eric could probably see that he was in his head again, mainly because he’d been rinsing rice for about three minutes. “You literally ran into each other at a fucking gay bar. Just take a breath man, it’s fine.” 

It was fine. He knew it was fine. It didn’t stop him from spending an hour figuring out what he wanted to wear, though, whether he wanted to push his hair back or not. Eric got fed up with him after a while, and left, calling “good luck” as the door closed behind him. Billy just flipped off the air in his general direction, even though he knew he wouldn't see it. 

At 7:30, Billy couldn’t sit still. There was chicken in the oven, there was risotto on the stove; he’d set his table to look all nice, not going so far as to add candles, mostly to save himself some embarrassment if this /wasn’t/ a date. Even though it was. Probably. Hopefully. 

By the time 8:00 rolled around, Billy had calmed down a little, with the aid of a glass of (cheap) wine. Dinner was almost ready, the chicken still in the oven for a few more minutes, and he spooned the risotto out into a serving bowl while he waited, covering it and setting it on the table. At 8:03 his buzzer rang, and Billy almost jumped out of his skin, buzzing him in and waiting anxiously for the knock on the door, hiding the bottle of cheap wine and pulling the expensive one out of the freezer. He could hear the elevator ding in the hallway, and he was at the door before Steve could even knock (fuckin /pathetic/ but he couldn’t really bring himself to care). “Hey.”

“Hey.” Steve was smiling at him, and Billy smiled right back. He looked good, even better than the other night. He’d shaved since then, and he was wearing a nicer shirt, nicer pants. Steve cleaned up well. It took Billy a second too long to step aside to let him in, shaking himself out of his staring, which Steve only seemed to find amusing. “Nice place.” Billy closed the door behind him. 

“Thanks,” He motioned to the table as he walked back to check the chicken, “Make yourself comfortable, Dinner’s almost ready.” Still needed a few minutes. “Feel free to open the wine.” He pulled out a serving plate for the chicken, resetting the timer. Steve looked from him to the bottle, and did just that, pouring himself a glass and coming to lean on the kitchen counter as Billy finished cooking. 

“Look at you, Hargrove. So domestic.” Billy was suddenly very glad he wasn’t wearing his apron, and he laughed a little, rolling his eyes as he opened the oven again, “You trying to impress me or something?” He was smiling at him, taking a sip of the wine. 

“That depends, princess... is it workin’?” He raised an eyebrow at the other as he took off his oven mitts, picking up the plate of chicken. “C’mon, let’s eat.” He went to set the chicken down on the table, pouring himself a glass of wine and taking the cover off the risotto before sitting down. Steve followed, sitting down across from him, still looking at Billy with that fucking smile. “What?” Billy gave him an incredulous look, taking some risotto before passing it across.

“Nothing. It’s just kind of funny to see Bad Boy Billy so… put together.” Billy snorted a laugh, picking up his glass.

“What, not rebellious enough for you anymore?” He took a sip of his wine, “Look who’s talkin’ /King Steve/. Where’s the letterman jacket, huh?” It was Steve’s turn to laugh, rolling his eyes.

“Haven’t heard that one in a while. King Steve.” He smiled, picking up his own glass, holding it out to Billy, “Cheers to getting the hell out of Hawkins, huh?” Billy clinked their glasses together.

“I’ll drink to that.” 

They spent the rest of dinner falling right back into their old routine, plus a little catching up. Billy found out that Steve still stayed in touch with the kids, and Nancy, and Jonathan, which was a little surprising. He was mostly surprised that those two had stayed together all this time. He always thought Jonathan was way under her league, but whatever floats her boat. Whatever nerves Billy was holding on to at the beginning of the evening were long gone by the time they’d finished eating. So was the bottle of wine. Not that he was really drunk, just a little warm, a little fuzzy. Steve was too, based on the way his cheeks flushed a little pinker than before, and the way his eyes were hooded as he rested his chin in his hand, telling some story from college about getting stuck in a fire escape after going out to smoke, and Billy grinned. “That’s a good idea.”

“What?”

“True teen nostalgia, pretty boy,” Billy got up from the table, deciding he didn’t need to deal with any of the dishes until later. “C’mon.” He lead Steve into his room, rummaging around in his dresser drawer for a second before pulling out an orange pill bottle filled with joints, waving it at Steve, waggling his eyebrows a little. He had a balcony off his bedroom, and lucky for him, it was a pretty nice night out, sliding the door open, letting Steve through first. 

“You put up a good front, you know.” Steve teased him as he closed the sliding door behind them, pulling out a joint and a lighter. He didn’t smoke /that/ often, but old habits die hard, and it was fun, especially with someone else around. “All this time you had me thinking you’d changed, but you’re still a delinquent.” Billy rolled his eyes, smiling as he held the joint between his teeth, lighting it and taking a drag before passing it over to Steve. 

“Hey, I have so changed. I’m smoking you out in my own home now, not down at the quarry or wherever else we all used to hide away to get high.” He leaned against the railing, looking out into the city. It wasn’t an amazing view, he was only on the fifth floor of his building, but it was high enough that he could appreciate the lights from the buildings and the cars down below. You could /almost/ see the waterfront, if the light was hitting it just right. “Besides, princess, it’s better weed now. I don’t see you complaining.” He flipped around, leaning backwards on the railing now, taking the joint back from Steve with a smirk, his free hand finding its way into his pocket.

“Look at you, mr. cool. Is this how you keep your bad boy image? Giving your dates free weed?” Billy snorted a laugh, raising an eyebrow. 

“You sayin’ your my date, Harrington?” Because, sure, it was kind of assumed that’s what this was, but it was nice to hear a confirmation. He took another drag, blowing the smoke into Steve’s face, just to rile him up a little. 

“I might be.” He took the joint right out of Billy’s hand, leaning back against the sliding door. “So what if I am?” There it was again, the same moment that’d been broken in the bar, the air between them feeling thicker, the looks they gave each other a little darker. The weed helped to bolster his confidence a little, and he took a step towards him (the balcony wasn’t very big), taking the joint from him and taking a drag, letting the smoke come out as he spoke.

“I’m just askin’. If you’re my date, I should treat you like a date, right?” A smirk danced on his lips as he looked at Steve, their faces barely a few inches apart, “What kind of date are you, princess?” Steve just smiled right back at him, his tongue running over his lips, which Billy’s eyes immediately darted down to watch. 

“You still talk to much, Hargrove.” He could feel Steve’s hand find its way to the front of his jeans, fingers looping into his belt loop, which only egged him on, eyebrows shooting up.

“Oh, I get it,” He let Steve pull him in closer, looking to the side for just a moment to take another hit off the joint, putting it out against the wall and dropping what was left of it back into the bottle, “Didn’t peg you for that kind of gi-” Billy was cut off before he could even finish his sentence, because Steve lunged forward, catching his lips in a kiss, yanking him closer still until whatever space had been between them was closed. 

“Shut up,” he barely caught it, with Steve mumbling it into his mouth, but he grinned, moving his hands up to untuck Steve’s shirt, pressing his fingers against his skin. His chest felt tight, and he almost felt like he wanted to cry, or cheer, or /something/ he’d been waiting so fucking long to be able to do this, but he just kept kissing Steve, kept pushing his hands higher under his shirt, swallowing the noises he made when he thumbed over his nipples. It was only when Steve’s hands moved to the button on his pants that he pulled back, chuckling a little. 

“C’mon, pretty boy. We got a perfectly good bed right inside, be a shame to waste it.” Steve rolled his eyes a little, but he followed Billy inside without any protest, Billy pulling his shirt off in the process. When he turned, he caught Steve just /staring/, and he laughed nervously, brow furrowed. “What?” Steve shook his head, eyebrows raised.

“How the fuck are you still so hot?” Billy laughed again, this time more genuine, his fingers moving to his own fly, unbuttoning it slowly while he watched Steve.

“Used to look, huh?” He ran his tongue over his lips absently. /That/ was quite an interesting piece of information. He acted cocky, like he’d known, but truth be told if younger Billy had known that, well… he wasn’t really sure how he’d have handled it.

“As if you didn’t know.” It was Billy’s turn to stare as Steve started to unbutton his shirt fucking /excruciatingly/ slowly. He put his hands up in faux defense, taking a step towards Steve, moving his hands away and unbuttoning it himself, too impatient to deal with the little strip tease they’d somehow fallen into.

“I knew I liked to look at you,” He shrugged, finally pushing the shirt off Steve’s shoulders, “Didn’t know it was reciprocated.” It felt stupid to admit that he’d had this dumb crush on Steve (not a crush, but, you know…), but it had to happen sometime, right? They both knew what they were here for. 

“Seriously? I always just thought you weren’t interested, even if you were into guys.” Billy was unbuttoning his pants now, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eye, “That’s pretty hot, actually. Bad Boy Billy pining over me.” Billy breathed a laugh against his skin at the nickname, pulling back to roll his eyes.

“Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?” And Billy was kissing him again, pushing him backwards towards the bed, letting him fall back and dropping to his knees in front of him. He looked up at the other with a devilish smile as Steve propped himself up on his elbows, pupils blown out, watching Billy pull his slacks and boxers down and off, pushing them off to the side. “Damn, pretty boy. I knew the King Steve rumors but… /damn/” His voice came out almost breathy as he looked him over, now completely naked in front of him, like a wet fucking dream. He looked up and Steve was blushing, which was fuckin’ /cute/, even if Billy would never admit it. “What, no one ever tell you you have a big dick before?” Steve just rolled his eyes at him.

“No, dickhead. It’s just because it’s /you/.” And that… wow. If everything else didn’t kick Billy into high fuckin’ gear, that did it, for sure, and he was pulling Steve down the bed, finally getting his hands on him, nipping gently at his inner thigh, giving him a few loose strokes. “Fuck.” He looked up and Steve’s head had fallen back, the blush in his cheeks moving to his chest. 

“God, if only Bad Boy Billy could see you now. He’d fuckin’ combust.” Billy pressed a hand against Steve’s hip to hold him down, flicking his tongue out against the head of his cock, earning him a low moan. Steve lifted his head again to look at him, his hair falling into his face, watching Billy with a look that was almost predatory. 

 

“Don’t keep him waiting then.” Billy just shot him a devilish grin, stroking his length again.

“Don’t rush me, princess.” Still, as much as Billy was a tease, he’d waited far too long to be here, with Steve fuckin’ Harrington in his bed, so he flicked his tongue out again before just taking him into his mouth, bottoming out with almost no effort at all. It was amazing he’d taken so long to figure out he was gay, considering his gag reflex was just about nonexistent, but he’d had plenty of time to make up for all the blowjobs he didn’t give in high school. Steve was big though, and even bigger when his dick filled out completely, so he used his hand to cover what he couldn’t consistently take and set a rhythm, bobbing up and down on his dick, his cheeks hollowing out, lathing his tongue over the slit with every updraw. Steve was a fuckin’ mess under him, and Billy gladly let him tangle his fingers in his hair, his own dick growing hard in his pants. 

“Fuck Billy,” His voice was breathy now, almost hoarse, as Billy sucked the fucking daylight out of him, “I’m gonna- fuck,” Billy didn’t need to be told twice, pulling off with a little *pop* and pinching at the base of his cock, licking his lips and grinning up at him, ignoring the look of disappointment on Steve’s face.

“Not yet. I’m not done with you.” Billy stood up, motioning for Steve to reposition himself as Billy pushed his pants off, pulling a bottle of lube and a condom out of his bedside drawer.

“Of course you’d give me fuckin’ blue balls.” Steve groaned, only half serious as he did as Billy said, shifting so he was lying completely on the bed, still propped up on his elbows, watching Billy as he climbed onto the bed himself, straddling him. 

“That’s right, baby,” He grinned, tossing the condom to Steve, “Surprise surprise, Billy Hargrove is a tease.” He would continue to be too, because he popped the lube open, ready to put on a little show of getting himself ready (how fucking power bottom of him), until he felt Steve’s hand grab his wrist.

“Hey hold on,” Billy furrowed his brow, and his eyes darted down to Steve’s lips as he ran his tongue over them absently, “Let me do it.” 

“Yeah?” He hadn’t really been expecting it, maybe because, in his mind, Steve was still the straight dude he’d known in Hawkins, only going gay to get sucked and fucked, not looking to “be the girl” in any of this. He let Steve move him anyways, pushing him onto his hands and knees, ass in the air like a fucking show dog, unable to help himself leaning back into Steve’s touch as he ran his hands across his lower back, anticipation building in his gut. He didn’t hear the pop of the top of the lube, like he expected, just felt Steve spread him and then… /oh/. Oh /shit/. Steve Harrington was fucking /eating him out/. Billy moaned into the pillow, pushing back against his tongue, his breath coming out shorter, little noises with it. He was so used to being in charge, holding someone down and doing with them as he pleased, but Steve was taking his time, just lathing over the surface, running his hands down Billy’s thighs, reaching around to give his cock a few lazy strokes. “Fuck /Steve/.” It came out more whiny than he’d expected, which would have been almost embarrassing if it didn’t feel so fucking /good/. Before he knew it, Steve was tonguing into him, the lube finally coming out as he pressed a digit in with his tongue, Billy basically /writhing/ under his touch. This was not how he’d imagined sex with Steve Harrington, but he wasn’t complaining. How could he? Steve was fucking into him with two fingers now, his mouth moving to kiss and suck at the skin elsewhere, his ass, his thighs, his lower back. It was so /intimate/, but it didn’t make him uncomfortable, which was kind of a first for him. Sex was usually just that, sex, and Billy would fuck himself open and ride a guy’s dick and be done with it, but Steve was treating him like he gave a shit, like he wanted Billy to get off just as good as he would, and that… was so fucking hot. By the time he had a third finger inside of him, stretching him open, Billy was practically begging for it, rocking back against him. “Steve please holy shit just fuck me already.” He hears Steve chuckle behind him, pressing another kiss to his skin. 

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you baby?” That asshole. The absolute fucking /dickhead/ was trying to make him say it again. 

“/Please/.” Okay, so sue him for not giving a shit about his dignity anymore. If Steve was this good at fucking him with his fingers, he couldn’t wait another second to get his dick inside of him, “C’mon, pretty boy, I can take it.” Steve apparently didn’t need to hear it a third time, because Billy could hear him rip open the condom and roll it onto himself, guiding Billy to flip onto his back. 

“Wanna look at you,” He mumbled, and Billy flushed pink. Sure, he was used to being watched. He put on quite a show. But this felt different, Steve was looking at him with such a fucking /intensity/, he almost couldn’t bear it.

“Yeah as long as you get your dick in me sometime today, you can look at me all you want princess.” Billy smirked up at him, reaching up to pull Steve down into a kiss, his mouth falling open into a silent moan when he finally felt the blunt head of Steve’s cock push inside. “Oh /fuck/ Steve.” Steve caught his lips again, kissing him like he was /hungry/ for it, starting to move slowly, to give Billy time to adapt. Billy didn’t want time to adapt. He wanted to get /fucked/, and he dug his nails into Steve’s back, trying to get him to /move/. Thankfully, it didn’t take much for Steve to get the message, and soon enough he was moving at almost a punishing pace, neither of them able to focus enough to keep kissing each other, Billy’s head falling back against the pillow. It only took a minute or two for Steve to find the right angle, and Billy’s fingers grasped into his hair, his arms still thrown around his shoulders. “Right there, oh fuck Steve /Steve/ right fucking there.” Steve nodded above him, reaching his free hand to wrap around Billy’s length, matching his strokes to the pace of his thrusting, bringing Billy right to the edge in less time than he’d like to admit. He leaned down, pressing his face into Billy’s neck, sucking a mark into the skin, not slowing down, even as Billy came into his hand, moaning his name, Steve following soon after, kissing Billy again as his thrusts became more erratic, and he finally slowed to a stop. Billy groaned at the loss of contact as Steve pulled out, tying off the condom and tossing it into the trash. Billy watched him, propped up on his elbows, hardly able to believe that had all really happened. 

“What?” Steve was looking at him with that goofy grin, crawling back onto the bed to kiss him, Billy just melting right into it, licking his lips when Steve pulled away. 

“Nothin’, just admiring you.” He smirked up at him, wiggling out from under him to grab for his pants, pulling the pill bottle and lighter out of them, taking out the half a joint they hadn’t finished and lighting it, offering it to Steve, who rolled his eyes, but took it anyways. 

“Fucking delinquent.” He flopped down on the bed next to Billy, blowing the smoke in his face as revenge for earlier. "I still have it, you know." 

"Have what?" He shifted so he was on his side, taking the joint back from Steve.

"The letterman jacket." He shrugged a little, watching the smoke move in the air, "If you're into that." Billy almost laughed, but stopped himself, just grinning down at the other. 

"Next time, King Steve."


End file.
